


My Kind of Town

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hotel Sex, M/M, Mostly an excuse for smut, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Some Plot, and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7130993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky’s still thinking about the beautiful blond man who checked in hours ago when Natasha breaks his lovely train of thought.</p><p>“Barnes,” Natasha smirks. “That guy was hot, but your phone has rung twice already and you haven’t even moved to answer it. Wake up.”</p><p>“Shut up, Nat,” Bucky grins and picks up the receiver in front of him.</p><p>
  <b>In which Bucky is a concierge, Steve is a guest, and they're both a bit entranced by one another.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Kind of Town

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have a story in progress and two series I could be updating, but when ideas come I do not ignore them. Hope you enjoy!

Chicago’s winter winds are nothing to fuck with, Steve thinks as he hurries to his hotel, the biting cold seeping through his heavy overcoat, scarf and gloves. He’s thinking maybe he should have taken a cab from Union Station, but Google Maps says it’s only a 15 minute walk to the place, and Steve’s never been one to waste money if he can help it.

He remembers childhood winters in Brooklyn being cold, and his current home of Nashville has been known to hit low temperatures, but Chicago is fucking _frigid_ , and Steve is more than thrilled when he sees the sign for Hotel Allegro. He pushes his way through the doors and shivers as his body registers the sudden change in temperature. The lobby is beautiful, an intriguing mix of modern and classic design, elegant and sumptuous all at once. He wanders over to the check-in desk, taking in his surroundings.

“Good evening, sir,” a deep voice sounds just ahead of him, and Steve snaps to attention. The man behind the desk is nearly as tall as Steve is, which is saying something. He’s got brown hair that’s longer up top and shorter on the sides, and it looks like it’d be heaven to run his fingers through it. “How can I help you?”

“I, uh, have a reservation,” Steve replies, trying not to get too lost in the man’s smiling gray eyes. His name tag reads _James Barnes, Concierge._ The brunet smiles at Steve, and Steve’s heart should not be racing as fast as it is as he tries a tentative grin in return. “It’ll be under Rogers. Uh, Steve Rogers.”

“Great, let me just look that up for you,” James replies, fingers flying across the keyboard in front of him. “Ok, we have you booked for two nights, tonight and tomorrow night, in a single suite. Does that sound correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve replies, still feeling mesmerized by the man in front of him. His eyes linger a little too long on the man’s incredibly well-cut navy suit, and he must miss something the guy says because he’s just looking at Steve patiently as though waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said, could I please take down the information on your credit card for our records?” James smiles, and Steve fumbles for his wallet.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Steve says as he pulls it from his pocket, fingers slipping a little as he tries to pull out his Visa.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve curses. “Fingers are still kind of numb from being outside.”

“Not a problem, sir, take your time,” James says diplomatically. “How was your trip here?”

“Very nice, thank you,” Steve smiles. “Took the train in from Nashville for a job interview. Guess walking from the station wasn’t one of my better moves, though. Those winds, _Jesus_.”

James laughs, and that sounds is music to Steve’s ears.

“Chicago is particularly rough during the winter months,” Bucky chuckles. “If you need to travel any more than two or three blocks while you’re here, I’d suggest coming down to the front desk and having us call a car for you. If you don’t have the right gear, you’re liable to end up with frostbite.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” Steve smiles, handing over his card. “Thanks.”

Bucky quickly enters Steve’s information into his computer and hands the card back, along with a room key.

“You’ll be in room 206. Elevators are to your left, as are the stairs. And if you need anything else this evening, Mr. Rogers, just dial 9 on your room phone and ask to speak with James.”

“Will do,” Steve smiles. “Thank you, James.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Rogers. Enjoy your stay.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s still thinking about the beautiful blond man who checked in hours ago when Natasha breaks his lovely train of thought.

“Barnes,” Natasha smirks. “That guy was hot, but your phone has rung twice already and you haven’t even moved to answer it. Wake up.”

“Shut up, Nat,” Bucky grins and picks up the receiver in front of him.

“Front desk, this is James Barnes,” Bucky answers. “How may I help you this evening?”

“Oh,” a familiar voice begins. “Hello, James. This is, uh, Steve Rogers up in 206. I was just looking to order some food.”

Bucky smiles at the deep, rich voice on the other end of the line. He wonders what Steve’s voice would sound like with Bucky’s fingers wrapped around his cock.

“I’d be happy to help, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky says, glaring daggers at Natasha as she makes obscene gestures below the desk where the guests milling about in the lobby can’t see. “Please allow me to take your order.”

“Bet you’d _love_ to take orders from him,” Natasha teases, and Bucky makes a slashing motion across his throat. He can’t be very threatening because Natasha just laughs.

“Thank you,” Steve replies. “Any recommendations?”

“Well, I’m partial to the Filetto myself,” Bucky says. “Grilled beef tenderloin with fingerling potatoes. The truffle butter and the porcini mushroom sauce bring the meat to another level. It’s a little pricey, but I think it’s worth it.”

“Bet you’d like to slather _him_ in some truffle butter,” Natasha whispers, and Bucky’s _thisclose_ to murdering the redhead on the spot.

“That sounds perfect, actually,” Steve replies, and Bucky quickly refocuses his attention.

“Very good, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky grins. “I’ll place your order now, and it should be up in about a half hour.”

“Thank you, James,” Steve says.

“My pleasure, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky answers, thinking of a few _other_ ways Steve could bring him pleasure. “I hope you enjoy your meal.”

Natasha is giggling like a madwoman when Bucky hangs up.

“You’re my best friend, Nat,” Bucky sighs. “But I’m going to have to murder you one of these days.”

Natasha scoffs. “I’d like to see you try, Barnes. Need I remind you of the self-defense class we took together last year?”

Bucky cringes at the memory.

“Good point.”

 

* * *

 

Steve hears a knock on the door roughly 30 minutes after making his call, and smiles as he rises to answer it. He’s starving, and he hopes James’s recommendation tastes as good as he made it sound.

Steve swings the door open, and greets the young man on the other side.

“Your dinner, Mr. Rogers,” he smiles. “Where would you like it?”

“Over on that table there is fine,” Steve replies. “Thank you.”

The young man places a covered plate and an ice bucket with a bottle of wine down, and Steve frowns a little.

“I didn’t order anything to drink,” Steve explains, and the man smiles.

“Compliments of the house, sir,” he explains. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“No thank you,” Steve smiles and hands the man his tip. “Have a good evening.”

“You as well, sir.” And then the young man is out the door and Steve is sitting down to his meal. There’s a small card perched on the edge of the ice bucket, and Steve plucks it up and reads the careful script with a smile.

_Mr. Rogers,_

_I neglected to ask if you’d be needing a drink. I find that this wine pairs well with this particular meal. Please enjoy it on me._

_Sincerely,  
_ _James B. Barnes_

Steve moans around the first mouthful, savoring the juicy beef and the subtle flavor of the sauce.

James certainly knows his meats, Steve thinks with a smirk, sipping at some of the best wine he’s ever had.

 

* * *

 

“Call for you, Mr. Barnes,” one of the young men who works the front desk calls to him. “It’s the emergency phone in the hallway on the second floor. The man sounds pretty distressed.”

Bucky nods, picking up the call from his line, even though his shift ends in about ten minutes. “James Barnes, how can I assist you?”

“Uh, hey, James,” Bucky smiles at the sound of Steve’s voice. “It’s Steve Rogers again. I have a, um, a little problem up here. Locked myself out of my hotel room when I was placing my plate and silverware outside the door. The food was great by the way, and thank you for the wine.”

“Of course, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky replies. “I’ll head up with a master key right now.”

“No!” Steve shouts, and Bucky jerks back from the receiver at the volume and panic in Steve’s voice. “I mean, sorry, I don’t want to inconvenience you, I’m sure they need you down there.”

“It’s no trouble, Mr. Rogers, I assure you,” Bucky responds, curiosity piqued. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“James, wait, I-” Bucky hangs up the phone, grabs a passkey and heads toward the elevators.

The sight that greets him when he rounds the corner after exiting the elevator stops him in his tracks. Steve is beautifully, _gloriously_ naked and all he’s got to keep from being totally exposed is a strategically placed cloth napkin.

“Mr. Rogers,” Bucky grins. “I assume you didn’t realize the door swings shut pretty quickly unless something impedes its progress.”

“That’s a fair assessment, yeah,” Steve is staring at the carpeting, and his skin is flushed an incredibly attractive pink. “I was about to hop in the shower and then I figured it’d be a good idea to get this stuff out before it got too late. Maybe not my best move.”

Bucky feels a surge of arousal at the full-body blush, the broad shoulders and the toned musculature of the man in front of him. He shakes his head to clear it as best he can.

 _You’re a fucking professional, Barnes,_ he chastises himself. _Now act like one._

“If you’ll step aside for a moment, I’ll get you back into your room,” Bucky says, and Steve finally looks at him, his smile equal parts sheepish and grateful.

“Thank you,” Steve sighs and gets himself out of the way. Bucky nods, sliding the key card into it’s slot. The light blinks green. Bucky twists the handle and pushes the door open, motioning for Steve to enter, and Steve basically sprints into the room.

“Come in for a sec,” Steve calls over his shoulder as he rushes into the bathroom, and Bucky is afforded a brief glimpse of Steve’s perfect ass before the door closes. Bucky steps through the doorway, closing it behind him and hovering in the entryway. He’s good at dealing with the guests; that’s why he’s got this job, after all. But he can’t remember many guests ever inviting him into their room unless it’s to address a complaint.

Steve emerges from the bathroom clad in the standard white robe the hotel offers guests. It’s a little snug on Steve’s large frame, and Bucky takes a moment to admire the man as discreetly as possible.

“Sit down a sec,” Steve says, and Bucky takes the chair across from him at the table. “Think a guy who saves my naked ass from some serious embarrassment the night before a job interview deserves a glass of wine, don’t you?”

Bucky laughs because he’s _definitely_ never had a guest invite him in for a drink without making some incredibly lewd comments first.

“I really shouldn’t be drinking on the clock, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky grins, and Steve chuckles.

“I think we’re past ‘Mr. Rogers,’” Steve smiles. “Call me Steve, please. And one glass couldn’t hurt, right?”

“I suppose it couldn’t,” James smiles. “Tell you what. My shift’s about up. Let me just clock out and I’ll head back up.”

“Your coworkers won’t think that’s weird?” Steve smirks, and the mischief dancing in the man’s incredible blue eyes has butterflies whirling through Bucky’s stomach.

“No, I don’t think so,” Bucky smiles back at Steve as he strides toward the door. “I actually live in the hotel. It’s a perk they offer the concierge if he or she can be available at all times for emergencies, and I wasn’t going to turn down rent-free accommodations in a major city.”

Bucky winks at Steve, and delights in the man’s smile as he closes the door and heads back downstairs.

 

* * *

 

“All right, Rogers,” Steve mumbles as he paces nervously after a quick shower, waiting for James to return. He’s changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and the fabric swishes quietly as he strides back and forth, trying to keep his composure.

“Just be cool,” Steve whispers fiercely. “He’s just a guy. A hot guy. A _really_ hot guy who just saw you basically naked. _Shit_.”

Steve jumps when he hears a knock at the door, and hurries to open it before he completely loses his nerve.

“Hey,” he says, and if his voice is a little breathy, James doesn’t mention it. The brunet has changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and it helps to set Steve a little more at ease to see this gorgeous man in casual clothing. “C’mon in. Got a couple glasses waiting for us.”

“Thanks,” James smiles as he enters the room. “You know, I only receive drink invites from guests when they want one thing in particular, and I have to say I’m flattered.”

Steve feels the heat rise to his cheeks, and he knows he’s bright red.

“That’s not,” he stammers out, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to insinuate, not that you’re not attractive, but I didn’t-”

“Steve,” Bucky chuckles. “Relax. I was only joking around a little. I know you’re only trying to say thank you, which is unnecessary, since I was only doing my job.”

“Yeah, I doubt you encounter many naked guys out in your hallways, James,” Steve grins.

“Happens far more often than you’d think,” James smirks, and Steve’s breath catches a little as James’s eyes darken. “And believe me, I’ve seen far worse.”

Steve’s not really sure what to say to _that_ so he takes a big gulp of red wine, hoping the alcohol will dull his nerves.

“So, what sort of job are you interviewing for?” James asks. “What do you do?”

“Right now, I run the art department at a small magazine in Nashville,” Steve explains. “I’m interviewing for a position at a publishing house here in Chicago. I’d be illustrating kids’ books, textbooks, that kind of thing. Helping out here and there with layout decisions for certain types of books.”

“Well, that sounds wonderful,” James smiles, and Steve’s heart stutters as James catches sight of his portfolio leaning against a wall. “May I?”

“S-sure,” Steve stammers, and admires the brunet’s easy grace as he rises and strides over, grasping the large leather case. He sits down on the bed and begins leafing through Steve’s best work. Well, what _Steve_ thinks is his best work.

Steve breathes a sigh of relief when Bucky looks up at him with a small, but genuine smile. He has no idea why, but this man’s opinion is important to him.

“Steve, these are incredible,” Bucky says. “I know a few artists and none of them can switch styles as easily as you seem to.”

“Thank you,” Steve says as he walks over and sits beside Bucky. Steve wonders if the tension he feels between them is real or just wishful thinking. “The kids illustrations are easiest for me, and the most fun.”

“It shows,” James grins, and Steve pulse races as Bucky places a hand on his arm. “They’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” Steve whispers, and then he’s closing the distance between himself and the brunet. Bucky tastes like the wine they’ve been sipping and Steve moans as Bucky’s lips move against his, strong and sure.

“Sorry, I,” Steve breathes, pulling back with a shaky exhale. “I didn’t mean to just kiss you out of the blue. God, now you’ll think I’m one of those creeps that hit on you down at the desk.”

“Steve,” Bucky chuckles. “You don’t have to apologize. I’ve been wondering what that’d be like since you walked in this afternoon.”

“Yeah?”  Steve knows he’s smiling like a complete idiot, but it doesn’t matter because Bucky’s thought about kissing him, _holy shit_.

“Yeah,” the other man grins. “And people I like call me Bucky, so you should. Call me Bucky, I mean.”

“Bucky?”

“Middle name’s Buchanan,” Bucky grins. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, you mind if we go back to kissing? You made a really interesting noise a minute ago, and I am _very_ curious to see what other sounds I can get you to make.”

Steve swallows at the heat in Bucky’s eyes, and _fuck,_ this man looks like he wants to eat Steve alive and he is _so_ on board.

“By all means,” Steve breathes, tangling a hand through Bucky’s hair and pulling him forward. “Please continue.”

 

* * *

 

Steve’s pupils are blown wide with desire, his lips bruised and reddened from Bucky’s insistent kisses, and Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever been quite so ready to go to bed with a stranger in his life. Under the circumstances, though, he doesn’t think that’d be such a great idea, given that Steve’s interview is first thing in the morning. Bucky doesn’t want the guy to be sleep-deprived and he certainly doesn’t want to rush through sex with this man if sex is, in fact, something Steve wants.

He voices this thought to Steve who groans in frustration.

“If you leave me like this, I’ll never fall asleep,” the blond whines, and Bucky feels a surge of affection for the man as he laughs.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Bucky smirks his hand trailing down Steve’s stomach and sliding into his sweatpants. He curls his fingers around Steve’s hard cock, stroking slowly and Steve moans.

“Please,” the blond begs. “Oh, _please_.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky whispers, kissing Steve gently, as he pushes the sweatpants down Steve’s hips. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Bucky works Steve’s cock slowly and patiently, reveling in every moan and shudder he can coax from the man. Steve is flushed and panting, and Bucky thinks he’s breathtaking like this.

“Bucky,” Steve moans, back arching. “Fuck, so close, please.”

“That’s it, Steve,” Bucky whispers. “Come on.”

Steve’s spilling his release moments later.

“Shit,” Steve gasps. “That was. That was really good.”

“Good,” Bucky grins, leaning forward to kiss Steve gently. He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, and feels Steve tug at his arm.

“What about you?” Steve smiles.

“It’s late, and you have a big day tomorrow,” Bucky smiles, handing Steve a tissue. “I actually have a day off. Gimme a call when you get the job and we’ll celebrate.”

Bucky scrawls his cell number on a piece of hotel stationery and sets the room’s alarm clock after asking Steve what time he’d like to be up. Steve walks Bucky to the door, pulling him back for a slow deep kiss.

“Can I call you tomorrow even if I don’t get the job?” Steve asks. “I might need consolation and comfort.”

Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s chin in one hand and kissing him gently. “You can call me no matter what, but you’re gonna get it. I have a good feeling about it.”

“Thank you,” Steve smiles. “I’ll, uh, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it, Steve.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky checks his phone as he heads down the hall toward the elevator and smiles when he sees the text from Natasha.

**Nat: Nightcap?**

Bucky responds in the affirmative and makes his way to the elevator, heading for the lobby and then out the door to a place around the corner. It’s quieter than the hotel bar, and the drinks are a hell of a lot cheaper.

Nat’s sitting at the bar sipping her standard vodka soda, a bottle of beer sitting at the seat beside her. Bucky slides onto the bar stool and takes a long swig from the bottle.

“Thanks,” he smiles as he sets the bottle down. “Nice to have friends who have your drink order memorized.”

“You’re awfully chipper,” Natasha side eyes him. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“If I tell you, you’re sworn to secrecy, got it?” Bucky grins, and Natasha perks right up.

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” she smirks. “This has something to do with the blond in 206 doesn’t it?”

“It might,” Bucky breezes, and Natasha punches him gently in the arm.

“Spill, Barnes.”

Natasha reacts in all the right ways as Bucky relates the events of the past hour; she’s always been the best audience for his stories. Plus, she’d tell him if she thought he was being an idiot. Getting involved with guests is always a dicey prospect, but they’ve all done it from time to time.

“He moving here if he gets the job?” Natasha asks.

“I’d assume so,” Bucky smiles. “I mean, I guess you can illustrate from anywhere, but it sounds like he’ll have some operational responsibilities in the department as well.”

“You gonna date him if he does?” Natasha’s grin suggests she already knows the answer, but Bucky knows she won’t stop until she hears the response she wants.

“I’d certainly like to try.”

 

* * *

 

Steve’s never believed in love at first sight, but he knows Bucky’s special. There’s something about the man that draws Steve like a fish to a bright, colorful lure. The thought of getting to see him after this interview gives Steve something to look forward to, and helps to calm his nerves as he cabs to his 9 a.m. appointment.

He interviews with Maria Hill, one of the publishing company’s HR reps. She’s smart and funny, and Steve establishes an easy rapport with her immediately. They’re joined halfway through by Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Publishing as well as the owner, Tony Stark.

Tony is flashy and a little overwhelming to Steve, but he likes Steve’s work and seems keen on him joining the company. Pepper agrees, and Maria asks if Steve has the necessary documents to begin the hiring paperwork. Steve pulls them from the front pocket of his portfolio, head swimming at how easy this was.

“Prepared for success,” Tony grins as Steve produces the several forms of ID the company needs. “I like that. Welcome aboard, Rogers.”

Steve shakes Tony’s hand, then Pepper’s.

“We’re glad to be hiring you, Steve,” she smiles. “I think you’ll be very happy here.”

“I think so too,” he smiles. “Thank you, Ms. Potts.”

He can’t _wait_ to call Bucky now.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s sitting on his couch watching a movie when his phone starts buzzing, startling him out of a light doze. He stares at the unfamiliar number, perplexed for a moment, and then it dawns on him.

 _Steve_.

“How’d it go?” Bucky exclaims as he answers. “Did ya get it?”

“Yes!” Steve shouts, and Bucky can hear the traffic in the background. “I got it! Wait, how’d you know it was me?”

“Well, I was expecting your call, Rogers,” Bucky teases. “Assumed a fine, upstanding gentleman like you wouldn’t stand me up, ya know?”

Steve laughs, and Bucky thinks that might be the best sound he’s ever heard.

“Take a cab back to the hotel and come up to my apartment,” Bucky smiles. “I intend to finish what we started yesterday _at least_ twice, and I’m taking you out tonight. Give you a proper Chicago welcome.”

“I’m on my way, just text me where your place is.”

 

* * *

 

Steve is wandering back and forth along the fifth floor hallway of the hotel when he finally spots the door he thinks is Bucky’s. He knocks, praying he’s in the right place.

He’s sure when Bucky opens the door with a grin, and pulls him into a kiss.

“Congratulations,” he whispers against Steve’s lips. “Let’s celebrate.”

Steve is already dizzy with desire as Bucky pulls him into the apartment, kissing him every couple of feet. They fall into Bucky’s bed a few minutes later, laughing like a couple of horny teenagers. Bucky undoes Steve’s tie, grinding down into Steve’s hips as he works each button on his dress shirt open and smirks as Steve moans.

Steve sits up so Bucky can push the dress shirt off of him and then pulls his undershirt over his head.

“Jesus, fuck,” Bucky laughs breathlessly, taking in Steve’s frame. “How are you _real_?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Steve grins as he pulls Bucky’s shirt up over his head, then pulls the brunet in for a heated kiss. “You’re fucking perfect.”

For the first time since Steve’s met Bucky, the man pulls away from him, unsure and biting his lip nervously. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. The juncture where Bucky’s left arm meets his shoulder is covered in tattoos, but the scar tissue is still visible.

“Hey,” Steve tilts Bucky’s chin so that the brunet will meet his eyes. He moves his hand down Bucky’s neck and gently traces patterns along the puckered skin. “You’re beautiful.”

The look Bucky gives him is intense and full of heat, and it feels like he’s burning up from the inside out as Bucky claims his mouth, pushing him back against the bed and rolling his hips into Steve’s.

They move sinuously against one another, their bodies coming together like the ocean meets the shore. Bucky’s kisses and touches coax whimpers from Steve’s lips, and he should be embarrassed, but he’s too aroused by the man above him to care.

They take their time exploring and by the time they’re both naked, they’re panting and desperate for one another.

“What do you want, Steve?” Bucky breathes, kissing the blond and gripping his ass as he rolls his hips. Steve can hardly think straight because he wants it all, wants everything this gorgeous man is willing to give him.

He settles on, “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s clearly more than happy to comply as he pulls lube and a condom from his bedside table. He makes his way down Steve’s body, kissing and nipping, leaving marks peppered across Steve’s torso that he wishes would never fade.

Steve shudders as he hears the click of the bottle opening, and he cries out as Bucky swallows down his cock as he slides a finger into Steve’s entrance. Bucky takes his time, tongue and fingers driving Steve mad as he’s prepared.

He nearly sobs with relief when Bucky finally pulls back and slides on the condom.

Steve doesn’t buy into cliches, but Bucky sliding into him slow and easy tilts his world on its axis, and things just seem to fall into place.

 

* * *

 

“Gonna make this so good for you, Steve,” Bucky groans as he pulls back and then begins fucking Steve in earnest. The sounds spilling from the blond’s mouth are incredible, and Bucky knows he won’t be able to last long watching this gorgeous man writhe below him. He’ll be damned, though, if he can’t get Steve to come first.

He sets a quick, steady pace, angling his hips to give Steve the maximum amount of pleasure. Steve’s moans increase in volume with each thrust, and when Bucky wraps a hand around Steve’s cock, the blond sobs out a desperate, “ _Yes._ ”

Bucky is in awe of Steve, in awe that he is being allowed to take this man apart piece by beautiful piece, to give him such pleasure. He hopes Steve will want to see him on the regular when he moves to Chicago because Bucky would love the opportunity to get used to this, to find new ways to make Steve scream.

“Gonna,” Steve is gasping. “ _Fuck_ , Bucky, gonna come.”

“That’s it, Steve,” Bucky groans as he feels Steve tightening around him, and his own climax is imminent. “Come with me.”

Their orgasms hit one right after the other, and Bucky’s never seen anything so beautiful as Steve arching into him, calling out his name.

 

* * *

 

They doze for a while and then Bucky makes them a quick lunch of soup and sandwiches. They crawl back into bed after they eat, and sleep for a bit longer than they intended.

“I know I said we were gonna go at least twice before we went out,” Bucky smiles after he kisses Steve awake. “But I wanna make sure we can get seats at the place I have in mind. You like jazz?”

Steve does.

They get cleaned up and leave the building around 6 o’clock. Bucky tips a nod to a woman who is sitting and smirking knowingly at the front desk.

“Who’s the redhead?” Steve asks, perplexed by her stare.

“My friend Nat,” Bucky replies. “You’ll meet her eventually if you decide to hang out with us once you move to Chicago.”

“‘Course I wanna hang out,” Steve grins. “What kinda of a lunatic would I be to ditch a guy who fucks like you do and takes me to jazz bars?”

Bucky laughs and slings an arm around Steve’s shoulders kissing the blond on the check. “Believe me, Rogers, there’s _plenty_ more where that came from if you’re interested.”

Steve smiles, shivering a little at the heat in Bucky’s eyes and thinks this trip might be one of the best things that’s ever happened to him.

It would appear that, as Frank Sinatra once crooned, Chicago is Steve’s kind of town.

 

  _Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably less done with this than I think I am, but we'll see. Thanks for reading!


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